


Cross the Line and Back Again

by iwillpaintasongforlou



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: BDSM, Jealous Louis, Light BDSM, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Orgasm Denial, featuring harry as a whimpering desperate mess, first time posting smut here yay, jealous!louis, ruined orgasm, slight exhibitionism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-16
Updated: 2014-03-16
Packaged: 2018-01-15 23:56:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1324033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwillpaintasongforlou/pseuds/iwillpaintasongforlou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry and Louis like to play games and make each other jealous. Harry accidentally takes it too far and Louis exacts revenge using the most powerful tool he has: sex.</p><p>Or, the one in which Louis gets back at Harry by withholding sex long enough for him to turn into a horny, quivering mess and then makes sure he can't walk straight for a week.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cross the Line and Back Again

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thewayshesnot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewayshesnot/gifts).



It was actually Louis who started all of this in the first place. Even at 18, with his long fringe and skinny limbs, he was the vibrant sort of lad who would flirt with everyone around just to see if he could make Harry jealous. And because Louis was the one who tended to set the pace in their relationship right from the start, all of the flirting and the jealousy got to be sort of a… game.

The rules went a bit like this: despite all of the heavy closeting the two of them were under (thank you, Management), there were still various close friends who knew about Harry and Louis. And some of these friends happened to be male. And from time to time, Harry and Louis would flirt with certain male friends, all in good fun, to see how worked up they could make each other.

Louis always seemed to win. Not because he was the best flirt- actually, Harry had three times as many male friends who enjoyed playing along with their little game and who would help him get Louis flustered. Combine that with Louis’ jealous nature, and it didn’t take long for him to be pouting and Harry to come out ahead.

But in the long run, a win for Harry was also a very big loss, because Louis Tomlinson was the sorest loser he’d ever met.

“You sure you don’t want to come back to my place, Harold?” Nick said loudly, eyes locked on Harry but voice clearly directed at Louis. “I’ve got a bottle of wine and we’ve got all night.”

“That _is_ pretty tempting,” mused Harry with a barely-contained smirk, stepping closer to his friend. “I do have a boyfriend at home, though.”

“Who’s also on the couch four feet away,” Louis says shortly, his voice dry and eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly.

Nick slung an arm around Harry’s shoulders and closed the distance between them with a flirtatious wink. “Yeah, well, forget about him. Popstars are overrated, trust me. All show. You want a man with a proper job.”

“I think radio is really cool, actually. And you’ve got a really sexy, smooth voice…”

That was the point at which Louis got up and left the room with two more beers in his hand and a scowl on his pretty little face. Harry and Nick broke apart with silent laughter that shook their shoulders in tandem. “I can’t believe that shit actually works,” Nick murmured with another swallow of his drink.

Harry had to physically bite his lip so as not to giggle with glee. “He knows we’re not serious and he still gets jealous! He’s so cute.”

“You don’t think we ever push too far, do you?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Harry seriously replied. “He only bickers with you because he knows you can take it.”

“Right, same here. Which is why I love playing this game with you and making him look like a twat.” There’s a wicked glint to Nick’s eyes. “Just so long as your pretty boyfriend doesn’t come after me in my sleep or anything. I do have a job that I have to show up for and all.”

Harry just grins and slips his arm around Nick’s waist so that they can hang on each other when they follow Louis into the next room.

He’s leaning against the wall with one beer tucked beneath his arm and the other at his lips. “Oh, I see the happy couple couldn’t stay away,” he commented drily.

“We were just talking about that awesome job Nick’s got, and I was reminding him about how we want to all go on his show one morning. Isn’t it awesome to have a friend who can do stuff like that for you?”

“Fantastic.”

Nick’s mouth turned up in the corner ever so slightly at Harry’s fib, but he answered quite genuinely. “I talked to the producers about that, and we do actually have a spot next Thursday, if that works for you?”

“Seriously? Oh Nick, you’re the best!” Harry gets out his best dimples, hugs Nick close with exaggerated glee, and before he can think better of it, plants a kiss right on Nick’s smiling mouth.

All three faces in the room are shocked when Harry pulls back. Nick looks like he’s afraid to move. Harry looks mortified. Louis just looks _pissed._

“What the fuck?” Louis blurted out while the others were still searching for words.

“I’m just teasing you, Lou,” Harry defended at once, but even as he said it his stomach was sinking. Neither of them had ever taken the game this far. There was no official rule book, but the look on Louis’ face was clear enough to let Harry know that wherever that invisible line was drawn, he’d just crossed it.

Louis doesn’t even answer that. He just puts his drink down, grabs his jacket off the back of Nick’s couch, and spins on his heel to make a hasty exit. “Maybe you should crash here tonight,” he says over his shoulder, like he can see the way Harry was already starting to go after him. Harry in stopped in his tracks, and just as quickly, Louis is gone.

“You shouldn’t have done that, lad,” Nick sighs, taking in the empty space where Louis used to be and the forlorn expression on Harry’s face. “I’m all for jealousy games but I don’t think you were meant to take it that far.”

“You’re telling me,” Harry said quietly. He had a very bad feeling about this.

When Harry goes to his and Louis’ flat in the morning, the scene is all too familiar. This is the same kind of angry that Louis always is when he’s losing their little games, but this time he has very good reason to be angry. It almost sets Harry at ease, knowing that this fight is going to follow the same course as all the others. At least he knows that he’s not going to lose Louis when he feels them shift into Stage 1.

No matter what they fought about, the first stage of Louis’ wrath was always a period of intense pouting. Stage 1 lasts anywhere from an hour to a week, depending on how jealous he’s been made to feel and which friend Harry was flirting with (ranked by severity of infraction with Niall being least offensive and Nick being most).  During this stage, Louis would sulk around the house and give Harry the cold shoulder until Harry had to resort to groveling just to get acknowledgement.

This time was no different. “I’m the absolute worst. I can’t believe I did that, I’m a total tosser,” Harry assures Louis when he brings him a cup of tea in bed.

Louis seems to agree. “You know, it’s funny- when had that little commitment ceremony in France last tour, I had the crazy idea that we were actually making a _commitment_ to each other.”

It’s a low blow and Harry winces when it lands. “We were. We have. You know I didn’t mean anything by kissing Nick- you’re the only person I could ever love, ever.”

“But you can snog who you like, though, that’s fine?”

“I didn’t sn-” Harry bites back his defense. There has never been a worse time to quibble over vocabulary choices. “You’re right, it makes no sense. I thought I was playing a game, but I took it too far and I was wrong. And I’m so, _so_ sorry.”

There’s a long moment of silence. “And I can’t believe you said he had a smooth, sexy voice. You _know_ how I’m self-conscious of how raspy my voice gets-”

“I was only teasing, baby, I love your voice. You’re the best. You’re _my_ best. I love you.” Harry kisses his neck on that little spot above the collarbone that always makes Louis’ eyes crinkle.

It must work, because Louis sips his tea and lifts his free hand to ruffle Harry’s curls. “Okay,” he says suddenly. “I believe you. I forgive you.”

Which is sort of a bittersweet statement for Harry to hear, because on the one hand, Louis isn’t going to pout anymore- no more cold shoulder, no more sulky moods. It also meant that Harry really was forgiven. These were all positive things, and Harry was more relieved than he could express that Stage 1 was ending.

But it also meant that Stage 2 was beginning, and that was undeniably, immeasurably worse.

After three years and change of them being together, Louis knew everything there was to know about Harry, and most of the time it was nice. But forgiveness didn’t always mean that Louis was done exacting whatever revenge he needed to feel okay again, and that meant what used to be sweet, endearing intimacy was now a deadly weapon in the hands of a very mischievous man.

Stage 2 was about knowing what made Harry tick and throwing a wrench in the gears just because. Stage 2 was about driving Harry insane with a cheerful smile.

Stage 2 was withholding sex.

Everyone knew Louis Tomlinson was a sexual creature- anyone that was in a room with him for more than five minutes could see that. But he was also strong-willed, and that gave him the dangerous ability to use sex as a devious, highly effective tool when he needed Which turned out to be very bad for Harry, because normally he was accustomed to a certain… _lifestyle_ that now he was absolutely being deprived of.

The first few days were always miserable but fine. Harry would take cold showers and accept his fate and find peace with the fact that there was a gorgeous, half-naked man in his bed that he wasn’t allowed to touch. He’d respond to every “too tired” or “I have a headache” with a chaste kiss to the cheek and absolutely would not push the issue.

Around the one week mark it started to get really bad. Not only was Louis barely above platonic at home, but he was also his regular, flirty, vivacious self the rest of the time. Fluttering eyelashes during interviews, cheeky butt grabs during photoshoots… but as soon as they were behind closed doors, Louis was ducking out of his arms in favor of various activities that usually didn’t involve Harry and definitely didn’t involve the release Harry was now getting desperate for.

After two weeks, Harry started to get very antsy. There was no amount of wanking in the shower that could make up for the fact that he was all but married to the sexiest man on the planet but living like a lonely, horny         

 teenager. It was sort of making him jittery, how badly he needed Louis, and people were starting to take notice.

Which was probably why Louis decided to relent when he did. The twitter comments about Harry’s restlessness were starting to get out of control, not to mention the fact that the poor kid looked near tears every time Louis kissed him on the cheek. It had been three long, hard weeks and Louis was finally ready to show mercy.

“Hey Harry?” he called casually one morning while they went about their morning routine. He was rummaging around for something to wear in the pile of clean laundry he liked to keep on the floor while Harry toweled off his curls.

“Your favorite jeans are in the dryer if that’s what you’re looking for,” Harry answered fondly.

“Oh. Sweet, thanks. But actually I was wondering if you could do something else for me.”

Harry’s attention is immediately piqued. For all he knows Louis about to ask him to go dig the Grand Canyon a twin sister with his bare hands, but the look on his face says he’d give it a go. “Of course,” he replied instantly. “What is it?”

“Wear this for me today.”

It isn’t a tee shirt that flies through the air towards Harry, like he expects. Instead, it’s the little black butt plug that has been lying sad and abandoned in a drawer for three weeks now. Harry catches it and seems to take an eternity to process what he holds in his hands.

When he does, his gaze snaps up to meet Louis’. “Are you serious?” he says hopefully, a grin creeping across his face.

“Well I suppose if you don’t want to, we don’t _have_ to, but-”

“No, we want to! I mean I want. To. Yes.”

Louis snorts a little, despite his attempt to act cool and calm. “Well you’d better hurry up, then,” he warns with a casual sniff. “We need to leave in like ten minutes if we’re going to make it to the interview rotation on time.”

That makes Harry’s face fall a bit. “Shit. I forgot we have interviews today… are you sure this is the best idea? I mean, you know what happened the last time- actually never mind, forget I said anything,” Harry corrects himself once his words catch up to him. Wisdom be damned, this was the light at the end of his tunnel and he was not about to walk away from it.

Louis just laughs and leaves Harry to his own devices. _Now comes the fun part._

………………….

This was not their first time playing games barely concealed from the public eye like this. Louis was a tease and Harry had an exhibitionist kink a mile wide, so publicly doing things they probably should confine to the bedroom was always exciting for the both of them. Even the other boys stopped being surprised when one or the other would show up onstage or to a bit of promo with pupils blown wide and inappropriately flushed cheeks.

But with Harry walking around like a live wire, this was by far the most dangerous they’d ever been. He has about an inch from breaking out in a cold sweat the entire morning, even without Louis interacting with him at all. He got several warnings from Management to “cool it,” and that was before Louis even got brave and slipped his hand down the back of Harry’s jeans while the interviewer was distracted and pressed the plug infinitesimally deeper into Harry

As soon as Louis touched him, Harry’s eyes went wide and the battle was on to keep calm. He sucked in a quick breath and let it out in a quiet noise somewhere between a sigh and a moan that could _almost_ be interpreted as a yawn. Zayn shot him a weird look. Harry focused on breathing. Louis removed his hand and leaned back casually like the worst sin he was guilty of was looking too good.

_Ah, yes. The fun part._

And so it went, all day. Louis painted Harry with significant glances and touches carefully designed to drive him insane.  Harry devoted 5% of his attention to work and 95% of it to not coming in his pants. Everyone else in the room concealed feelings ranging from confusion to exasperation. Eventually Liam just sighed and relinquished his jacket for the noble cause of concealing Harry’s boner, since it was the worst kept secret in the room. It didn’t stop him from looking like he was in outer space, but then, nothing could.

“I’m about to lose my mind,” Harry breathed when they walked out of the building after the last interview of the day. “Literally, I think I’m about to go insane.”

“I think that’s the closest we’ve ever come to getting fired, to be honest,” Louis replied with a smirk, snatching Harry’s keys. They both knew full well he was in no state to drive. “I’m proud of you, that’s an impressive feat. You’ve done worse than the time we lost the phone with the dick pics, and that was a _really_ close call.”

“Thank you, I think?”

“Definitely a compliment. What do you want your reward to be, princess?”

Harry’s eyes glaze over a bit when he swivels his head to look at Louis. He’s chewing his lip like he’s not sure whether to say what they both know he’s thinking.

Louis reaches out and puts a hand on Harry’s thigh, far enough from his crotch that it might be considered chaste and gentle enough to be anything but. “Go on, then. Tell me what you want.”

“For you to fuck me. Please,” Harry exhales in relief. “Please,” he tacks on again, in case that’ll up his odds. _Anything_ to up his odds.

“How?”

“I don’t care. Any way. I’m going out of my mind,” he repeats for emphasis.

“Well don’t worry about that. You’ll have lost it before I’m done with you,” Louis assures him with a devilish smile. It’s hard to tell whether that’s a threat or a promise. Harry doesn’t much care.

Mercifully, Louis is on him the moment they’re inside the flat. He’s kissing Harry deeper than he has in what feels like an eternity, and Harry has to physically fight the urge to throw him up against the wall and grind their bodies together. He knows better. He knows who’s in control tonight.

“Clothes off,” Louis instructs brusquely, removing his own shirt as he speaks.

“And the plug-”

“Stays in.”

Harry swallows and hurries to obey. He’s standing there naked in the foyer, biting his lip raw and waiting for more instructions. Louis takes his time getting down to just his boxers, then looks Harry up and down with agonizing slowness. “On the bed,” he says at last.

Harry walks to the bedroom as fast as he can given the circumstances and lays out on his back his knees up. He can’t be sure what Louis’ plans are. He only hopes they aren’t too lengthy.

Louis can almost read his mind. He strolls through the flat to find Harry quaking and eager and can’t suppress a grin. “You alright there, Harry?”

“Yes. Please.”

“What exactly are you saying please for?” Louis runs his fingertips from Harry’s hip to his collarbone and back again, touch so light it’s barely there.

“To be polite.”

“Don’t be sassy,” scolds Louis with a frown. He twists one of Harry’s nipples for emphasis, though it’s really more of a reward than a punishment at this point. “I meant what are you asking for? Are you going to tell me what you want, or am I going to have to just assume you want nothing?”

“S-sorry. I just want you to touch me. Please, _please,_ Lou.”

“It’s funny how you run around kissing other men, but then you think it’s reasonable to ask me to touch you,” Louis says lowly. “Do you think that’s fair?”

Harry swallows visibly, either from the question or the way Louis is climbing to sit between his knees on the bed. “I- I-”

“You want Nick to touch you, Harry?”

“No! Only you. Only ever you.”

“You think Nick could make you feel good like I do?” Louis places one hand on each of Harry’s thighs, palms flat and fingers spread wide as he slowly rubs from knee to hip.

Harry’s eyes flutter shut. “Only ever you,” he repeats.

One of Louis’ hands moves to push the plug farther into Harry. Whatever words were on Harry’s lips die as a gasp pushes through, his brows pulling together at the sensation. Louis repeats the motion, watching as Harry starts to twitch his hips like he can fuck himself down on the plug. He stops when Harry’s been distracted too long. “Harry. Tell me how good I make you feel.”

“So, so good,” Harry says, making praises sound like pleas. He can’t seem to shut his mouth all the way, like he’s lost the ability to feel or do anything that wasn’t directly related to Louis.

It feels a bit like an invitation to Louis. He moves to lay on his back beside Harry, smirking when those green eyes open to look at him in dismay . “Come on, then,” Louis says lightly. “You’ve been wanting my cock for weeks, right? Fantastic, I want your mouth on it.”

Harry scrambles to comply, getting to his knees on the mattress and leaning over to take Louis into his mouth as soon as the boxers have been kicked off.  Part of Louis is all exhales and pleasure, but part of him is busy admiring the way that every inch of Harry’s body sings eagerness and tension. More than once the hand supporting his weight twitches like he might touch his own cock, but he always thinks twice. He’s a smart lad. He knows better than that.

It earns him a reward. Louis rolls them over so that Harry is on his back one more, finds the place behind Harry’s ear that has come to look lonely without a lovebite, places a new one there. The skin blooms purple. “You shouldn’t have kissed him,” he murmurs.

“I know. It was so stupid, I-I’m so sorry, Lou.”

 _Not yet, you’re not,_ Louis thinks, but he doesn’t say it. Instead he trails down Harry’s body and finally, mercifully wraps his hand around Harry’s cock. A relieved sort of whimper comes as the answer. This body is as familiar to Louis as his own, and he watches every muscle and every flicker and every tremble of it, waiting for the right moment-

Harry brings one hand to his stomach the way he always does just before he comes, and Louis smiles, and Louis removes his hand just in time to hear a symphony of disappointment fall from Harry’s lips. A sad dribble of cum is leaking from his tip, and Louis is kind enough to kiss it away before he moves up Harry’s body to kiss those slack lips once more.

“A ruined orgasm?” Harry weakly protested.

“You _really_ shouldn’t have kissed him.”

There doesn’t seem to be a response to that. Harry just takes a few steadying breaths and looks up at Louis with that same mixture of love and desperation as before. Only the frustrated tear in the corner of his eye gives him away.

“Who makes you come?” Louis asks after a moment.

“You do.” It’s instantaneous.

“Who else?”

“No one else. Only you.”

“Would you like to come right now?”

There’s a half-crazy sort of laugh mixed in with the emphatic, “Yes, god, yes.”

“Turn over, on your knees.”

Louis lets Harry up so that he can comply, admiring this new view. The plug is still in, Harry’s cock still swollen and neglected. There’s a sheen of sweat covering his entire body. Louis wants to kiss every inch of him.

Instead, he runs his hand gently over the swell of Harry’s bum, retracing the familiar curves with a tender touch. He knows that makes it feel even better for Harry when he brings his wrist back and delivers a smack to the crease where Harry’s left thigh meets his bum. Harry gives a startled little gasp, first twitching away from Louis and then back, seeking more contact. Always more.

Louis gives it to him. He punctuates each slap with slow caresses, smoothing over the reddening skin and leaving kisses like hints of where he’ll love Harry next. Harry doesn’t stop seeking more. Louis doesn’t stop providing it either, until Harry speaks up.

“I’m going to cum, Louis,” he says breathlessly, like he knows he’s supposed to.

“Good boy,” Louis says in reward, but he doesn’t give Harry permission. He reaches around to squeeze the base of Harry’s cock so that his plan won’t unravel just from the sensation of him easing the plug from Harry. The quiet panting from up by the headboard makes Louis glad he did.

“What do you want?” he asks Harry again, running his thumb across Harry’s hole and earning a shiver in response. “Tell me or you get nothing.”

The speed with which Harry replies “I need you to fuck me” could be Louis’ oxygen for a year.

He doesn’t waste any time fishing the lube from the bedside table or slicking himself up. Harry’s quaking. So is he, a bit. They both hold their breath when Louis starts to nudge in, just the tip.

“You’re all mine,” he informs Harry as he rolls his hips ever so slightly. In and out. Teasing. Barely there. “I’m the only one who gets to do this to you.”

“Yes, Lou. Fuck. I love you. I’m only yours.”

The only answer Louis needs to give is the way he slams his hips forward and finally gives Harry what he craves. He’s gone from a simmer to a boil in an instant, just how Harry needs, forgetting every attempt to tease as he fucks into him as hard and as fast as he can.

Harry almost cries in relief, his hands clenching in the sheets while Louis’ leave crescent moon scratches where his fingers dig into Harry’s shoulder. They find rhythm quickly, aggression and desperation giving way to intensity and need. It isn’t long before Harry’s at the edge again, arms crumpling until he’s holding himself with one elbow, the other hand hovering somewhere near his stomach. “Lou, I-”

He doesn’t have to finish the sentence. Louis knows. He moves his hand back to Harry’s cock, but instead of teasing, this time he’s coaxing. “Come for me,” he exhales, and almost on command Harry’s back is arching, his muscles contracting, his breath stopping while he shouts an expletive and comes all over the sheets below them.

Louis doesn’t stop his hips or his hand. The feel of Harry finishing around him has him close, too. “Almost there, baby,” he huffs, hearing Harry’s little gasps as his high fades and the sensitivity sets in. “So close. Can you come again for me, princess?”

Harry just breathes a shaky, “As many times as you want,” and buries his face in the pillow, bringing his body back to meet Louis’ in that same familiar rhythm, already getting hard again as Louis’ hands and body move unceasingly.

It isn’t long before Louis feels himself lift into that heady space of The Point of No Return, his body moving like he’s on autopilot for those last few seconds before he’s coming somewhere deep inside Harry, feeling Harry’s body jolt even as he comes again from the feel of Louis. Someone swears. Someone calls on god.

It takes a second before Louis returns to his senses, before he can stop his body’s movements and break the two of them apart so they can collapse on the mattress in a pile of sweaty limbs they can’t be bothered to untangle. “I love you,” he makes sure to say, like he always does, just to remind Harry.

Like Harry could ever forget that. “I love you too,” Harry simply returns. “Sorry about everything.”

“Sorry about making you wait so long for the angry makeup sex,” Louis smirks. Harry laughs, his whole body shaking with it somewhere above Louis’. Or was it below? Around, maybe. Something.

Didn’t really seem that important anyways, to define which body parts were whose or who was saying what. It was more of an “us” thing. More of a together. The way it was supposed to be. That part wasn’t a game.

**Author's Note:**

> This was meant to be lighthearted so don't stress about it :) And also please don't come to me with Grimmy hate because I'm super duper not here for that you feel
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> ~iwillpaintasongforlou (AO3)  
> canonlarry (tumblr)


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